A Bengalis perspective of Durga Puja

Took a French today, last nights partying being so totally over-board that I’m now feeling the effects of all the Patiala pegs of Blender’s Pride or was it Imperial Blue whiskey, labeled as “a blend of single malt and superior Indian grain spirits blah blah blah” – whatever that means…

By the standards of the monsoon weather in Kolkata, today’s a sunny day with few clouds at play, lazily I watch them changing shape – sometimes bunching and blotting the sun, sometimes breaking apart to let the blue sky through. This time next month the rains will come to an end, and then it will be Puja time.

Aamar jaanala diye ek chiltey aakash,

Boroshar meghey chorpulish roddur - pukur parey nabin kaash;

Paarar morey potuar ghor,

Ekhon raat din kormo mukhor,

Notun maatitey purano kathamo saajey,

Bochorer ei shomoy tai shomadrito potua - benchey othey taar kaajey;

Pujor r ek maash,

Bodley jaabey amaar jaanalar chiltey aakash,

Hobey shokaler shiulir saathey roder bondhuta,

Mon paagal uru-uru - nil aakasher chotto megh, chaichi tar sokhyota.....

Durga Puja to a Kolkata Bong is always the Big Thing; more of a festival - carnival than an annual religious ritual, its the punch of sentiments sublime and displays garish, a Mardi Gras night mixed with the New York Fashion week, the puja is all about pre-puja shopping and pandal hopping and weary feet and rollicking drum-beats and mile-long queues and stupendous views and attitudes cool and crowded roads uncool and colorful dresses and eager faces and casual flings and mid-night blings and city lights and men in tights and women in red and the mornings spent in bed....